


Storm

by elfriniol



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Mithrim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4448852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfriniol/pseuds/elfriniol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After crossing the Grinding Ice, Glorfindel and Finrod reminisce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

“A storm is coming.”  
Glorfindel nodded, eyes focused on the approaching dark clouds, narrowed against the intrusive wind. It was quite cold this far up the north, although compared to the travails on the ice-desert this climate seemed as a full-blown spring. Even with the occasional storm thrown in.  
“A storm, quick and unexpected,” went Finrod on. “Quite unlike anything we had the pleasure to witness in Aman. Not that we couldn't see the overcast skies,” memories uncalled for sprang before his eyes. “Hope my tent's gonna be alright,” he said in a lighter tone, brief smile gracing his features. Glorfindel returned it. He had no strength to dwell on memories. “How's Ecthelion doing?”  
The blond looked Finrod in the eye, keeping a faint trace of the smile. “Better – or so it seems. Coughs less and the fever wore off recently. Finally I have some sleep,” he added. The past few nights were strangely calm, as if waking up to coughs and sneezes followed by curses became the most natural way of drifting from a reverie.  
“You took care of him like a mother takes care of a sick elfling. Wait, really!” Finrod exclaimed when he saw his friend do the perfect 'what-the-hell' expression. “Really, no one believed he would make it, with next-to-no food and temperatures low enough to freeze whole seas over. No one believed you would make it. It was hard enough to fend for oneself, let alone for another.”  
A sigh. “I know. I know, but tell me, Finrod – wouldn't you do the same? For your siblings? Or your friend?”  
Finrod turned to face Glorfindel, serious and sadly smiling. A thunder echoed ever closer to their encampment – the downpour would shortly begin.  
“I would,” he confessed, “I would act exactly like you – with more or less luck. But look – here we are chatting while the skies are about to unleash their wrath on us.” He said it like a joke, and they both laughed despite the heavy weight of the past events on their shoulders. Why cause any more despair anyway? The world has plenty of it on its own.  
Sometimes it's better to laugh it all away.

They bade goodbyes and each went his own way; the prince to his relatives, the other to his small tent. As Glorfindel walked fast by similar shelters of the exiles, he wondered whether such fragile and unstable structures will weather the approaching rain and fierce wind. Everyone was trying to fix their makeshift homes for better stability and resistance to torrents of water, but there wasn't really much they could do. Just make sure the pegs are securely in the ground, the leather walls and roof have no holes, and then hope for the best.  
“Hope we will be alright,” muttered Glorfindel to himself. He wasn't sure if Ecthelion's health was up to potential flooding of the tent and a day or two in the cold and wet.  
The wind's strength increased and only a few Elves were left in the open, and those were hurrying to some sheltered spot. As the first drops of rain landed on Glorfindel's cheeks, he knew he wouldn't make it to his tent in time; with each step the tempest roared and then heavy drops of water, or more likely hundreds of small but steadily flowing waterfalls, poured down on him. He broke into a run, cursing loudly as he felt the cool liquid beneath his clothes. When he finally made it to the tent, he was soaked from head to toe.  
Glorfindel lifted the heavy hides in front to kneel before the entrance to the single room, in the sheltered spot where he began inspecting the amount of 'damage' taken. Almost at the same time another set of leather curtain was drawn back by the sole inhabitant of the lair.  
“Oh, you're a mess.”  
Groan. “I've noticed, thank you.”  
Ecthelion chuckled. “What kept you so long? We can't be sick both at the same time, you know,” said he in slightly raspy voice. The cold hasn't gone away yet, but it was on a manageable level now.  
Glorfindel took off his boots, with some difficulty, and then moved to remove his belt and pants. “It's the weather, it changed really fast. Literally before my eyes.”  
“So you saw it coming and just stood and... watched?” There was laughter behind the question. To Glorfindel's annoyance.  
“Oh shut up and let me get changed.”  
The blond sat at the entrance of the tent, squeezed his shed garments to remove any excess water and placed them on the grass outside of their 'bedroom'. Ecthelion threw him some torn shirt so he could dry his hair and body alike.  
“How are you feeling?” Queried Glorfindel while taking care of his disheveled hair.  
“I still got cold. But otherwise fine, much better than anytime in the past week, actually.” A lengthy response was a good sign, thought Glorfindel, and the teasing too, after he thought a little more.  
“That's good,” said he while wiping off his feet. “The sooner you can be up and helping around, the better. The Ice took a high toll,” he remembered a heart-breaking sight of children turned orphans, of fair maidens turned widows. Turgon's face marred by despair and sadness and hate. “I hope this wanna-be home won't fly away in the next few hours though,” he looked up suspiciously at the simple, delicate-looking construction and how it shook beneath the impact of the wind. “Or maybe in the next few seconds.”  
Ecthelion rolled his eyes. “You worry too much, Fin. Come on, get inside already.”  
Glorfindel obeyed, although he would have gone inside anyway of course. Naked, he draped a blanket around him and started looking for some dry clothes. Which turned to be quite the task given the amount of objects in such a small space. When he twice checked his side of the tent he turned to Ecthelion with a groan. “Have you seen my clothes?”  
The questioned elf just shrugged. “Nope.”  
“You're here all the time, you have to know where what is.”  
“Fin, I don't mess with your stuff, and least of all your clothes.”  
Thunderclap. Drumming of raindrops at the walls of the tent.  
“I didn't say you hid them on purpose or what, I just asked whether you saw them.” Exasperated sigh. “And would you help me finding them, please?”  
“Hmm,” sounded sleepily from where Ecthelion lay. A movement. “And leaving it till later..?” Glorfindel felt a familiar form next to his side, one arm hugging his shoulder. He leaned in, almost instinctively. After what they had been through, this closeness came as natural as heartbeats. “I promise you won't be cold.”

They lay, huddled together in the few blankets they possessed, in the midst of the raging storm. However none could fall asleep.  
Glorfindel was lost in thoughts; he reminisced about everything that happened after they left Tirion. And now there they were, in the land of no one, in wilderness, in much lesser numbers than when they set out, with scarce food and plenty of woes. In this short time he learned much, maybe more than in all his life hitherto. Every moment, every breath, every sight, meal, smile – everything is a very precious and very unstable gift, and none of it should be taken for granted. He snuggled closer to the warm body next to him, head on Ecthelion's chest.  
Maybe it was because of his brooding mood. Maybe because it was the first time of calm and peace after the fateful day in Valinor. Maybe it was due to his nakedness.  
“Thel?”  
“Hm?”  
“Do you... how about...”  
“... I'm all ears.”  
“Nah forget it.”  
“Wait, what was that?” Insisted Ecthelion, enforcing his question by a few, well aimed tickles, receiving the expected reaction. And then another, less expected reaction, as Ecthelion found himself being wrestled with. “Hey! Is that how you treat a sick person?”  
“Yes – if the sick person is you. Then I can suspect the person is sound and well.” He managed to pin Ecthelion down, lying flat on him, staring at him from close distance. “One can never be too sure with you, you know?”  
“Aaalright.... and what did you want to say earlier?”  
Something changed then. Ecthelion noticed it first in the loosening grip on his wrists; then in the hardly lit, yet visible face hovering above his own. Lastly he felt it in himself, as if some invisible barrier of whose existence he didn't know until now melted away. Suddenly he was glad that the loud downpour managed to conceal his breathing and the slightly shorter intervals between each of his heartbeats. Another thunder interrupted the rush of his thoughts, for the better or worse.  
A hand touched his face, fingers tracing his brow, then moving down to stop just next to the slightly parted lips. “Mind if I steal something from you?”  
Ecthelion just lay there, dumbstruck; but Glorfindel wasn't really waiting for an answer. He leaned in, brushing Ecthelion's lips with his for a moment that was too short to savor and yet too long to forget. It was just that – a fleeting glimpse of some place which they could only find together, a safe haven resembling a secret childhood hideout they would share and, if either of the two were absent, it would grow cold and empty. Gone were the memories of death and fear, the storm's raging thunder seemed to come from afar, from entirely different universe.  
“I'm glad I had not lost you.”  
“Fin...”  
“You don't have to say anything,” a weight lifted from Ecthelion's body. Cool air washed over him. “Nor do anything. Or you can just tell me to back off. It's just… I care for you.”  
One hand reached out, fingers entwined, “Fin, I don't know what to say.”  
“You really don't have to, no answer needed here.”  
“Wrong,” this time it was Ecthelion who moved atop his friend, “you saved my life, you took care of me, even though it could have been the last thing you'd do, then you hug and kiss me with blanket being your only clothes, and now you expect me to just watch?”  
“I-”  
“Are you that selfless or plain stupid?”  
Glorfindel's baffled expression made justice to what he planned to say. “Bit of both, I guess?”  
Ecthelion rolled his eyes, though he could not hide his amusement. He lowered his head until their noses were touching. “I'm glad I have you,” he said before placing a soft kiss on Glorfindel's mouth, “and I give you permission to steal from me anything you might fancy.”  
The blond elf on the ground was grinning like a fool, “you sure about that last bit?”  
Pair of hands cupped his face and he felt thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. Closing his eyes to the sensation, Glorfindel let himself be kissed again, with more confidence than before. Wrapping his arms around the slender waist, he drew Ecthelion close to him, with no intention of letting go.


End file.
